


Scarecrow x Trans Reader

by Incognito_RabbitFox



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Transgender, Transgender Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incognito_RabbitFox/pseuds/Incognito_RabbitFox
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Reader, Jonathan Crane/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

With Batman gone from Gotham and Joker's hold on the city secured, he spent more time with me in bed. When he sat behind the mayor's desk, I straddled his lap with his cock inside me. I could lay my head on his shoulder and stay just like this for hours.  
He was delegating to tasks to henchmen right now, one hand was free on the desk to pick up phone calls while the other traced up and down my back under my shirt. He massaged my right ass cheek with that hand every so often too when his dick twitched inside me. The goons left with their orders and Joker turned his full attention back to me. His free hand held my chin and turned my face to meet his gaze.  
"Move your hips to show me how much you love me," he hissed through his teeth.  
"Yes, daddy," I crooned, grinding. My clit rubbed on his hair and shaft on the forward and backwards pushes.  
"You're daddy's little girl," he continued, "you're my babydoll. YOU'RE MINE," Joker started spiralling at the end, he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back to face the ceiling. He pressed his mouth to my bottom lip and down my chin to my throat where he licked and bit along where my arteries flowed beneath my skin.  
"I would kill you if you weren't only mine," Joker threatened. He was losing grip on reality in paranoia again, "DONT STOP RIDING ME!"  
"But I am yours and only yours," I tried to maintain the rhythym of my hips, "Daddy, pleeease!" I cried. An explosion rocked the bank building Joker set up his mayoral office in. Joker pushed me off him to the side and I hit the ground hard. He grabbed his favorite gun from his pants around his ankles and pointed it at the door.  
"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK-" Joker screamed, but two projectiles splintered the heavy wooden doors of the bank executive office and gas canisters of some kind were tossed into the room. Joker had taken cover behind his desk when the doors broke and when he heard the clatter of the metal canisters he tossed me my gas mask that was on the floor with my overalls and boots. I put it on before the gas reached me, but in that time, men had already come into the room ready and armed. A fist collided with my head and my arms were ziptied behind my back. Giant hands pushed me to sitting upright which also caused me to spread my legs as I tried to push away from whoever held me. The click of a gun hammer at my head froze my body. I turned to Joker, standing behind his desk. The hysterical, predatory glare he gave whoever stood behind me turned my blood cold. He put his gun on his desk. One of the partially obscured figures stepped forward and cracked him in the back of the head with his gun. I pulled against the man instinctually, but stopped myself quickly. My Joker's hands were ziptied behind his back and he was forced on his knees facing me.  
"This is your Jester?" the man with the gun trained on me spoke, taunting us in a cool voice. He knelt down in front of me and smiled. His eyes and nose crinkled in a smile behind his gas mask. He reached out a hand and gently felt the bite marks and bruises forming on my throat, "Daddy likes to get rough, does he?" he sarcastically asked. He leaned forward and knelt down over me, his knee being placed inches from my vulva made me remember that I was pantless, "Do you recognize me without my mask?" I scrutinized his face, but only found myself admiring his dark features and deep eyes. Eyes that had a soul, unlike Joker's. His eyes bore into mine.  
I didn't know this, but he had taken note that my pupils dilated and his pants under his knee were wet.  
"You don't seem to. How lovely. But I wish I could see more of you. What if we just..." he crooned as he began to slowly take off my gas mask. I started to panic and almost pulled out of the hold behind me. More goons stepped forward and grabbed one ankle each to hold my legs from kicking. The handsome man smiled, but even then it wasn't anything like Joker's smiles. He pulled my gas mask off of my head and then his own. I could see his olive colored skin clearly now. His soft hand gently holding my face in stark contrast to how Joker felt. One of the invading henchmen handed this man a mask, without the man taking his gaze from me. I wanted to look to my Joker, but his eyes swallowed mine. My lungs ached to breathe, but I ignored the growing pain.  
"I believe you really would hold your breath until you lost consciousness, but that's not according to my plan. I'll help you, darling," he said softly before pressing his lips to mine gently, working in more pressure until his mouth opened my mouth with little fight back. By then, my sight went white then black from lack of oxygen and I closed my eyes. When he opened my mouth he sucked in a chestful of air and breathed it it into my own lungs. He did this twice more, my body rejecting my own control and heaving in tune with his craving the air he gave my lungs. He closed our kiss and sat back on his knee.  
"Now give *Daddy* some sugar," he laughed and pulled a mask resembling Joker over his head. And then the fear gas in my bloodstream reached my brain.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll kill you if you aren't mine!"  
"Show me how much you love me."  
"I love seeing you cry, squirm more for daddy."  
"I could kill you so easily and no one would miss you," echoes of a distorted voice of Joker startled me awake in a panic. I sat up, but was yanked back down by wrist, ankle, and hip restrains. I tried to looked down at my body wild-eyed, but two warm hands caught my face and suddenly a man I couldn't place stepped into view. He looked familiar, but from where. His dark eyes had more eyelashes than any woman I'd ever seen. He tilted my face slightly, looking into my eyes and brushed some of my hair from my forehead.  
"Jester, are you with me here now?" he asked, concern written across his face. I wracked my brain to remember where I knew him from, his angled jawline was somehow so defined and soft at the same time. I felt like losing my fingers in his thick black hair. He turned away and scribbled notes onto a pad. He checked his watch and probably wrote down the time.  
"Whe-" I tried to speak, but my throat was sore. The man spun around and returned to my side.  
"Are you with me? Drink some water and try to talk," he sounded like he had been anticipating this and was impatient. He held a glass of water to my mouth and tilted it. I gulped down a mouthful and water trickled down my neck when I didn't take more. He patted my skin dry with a cloth and leaned over me to look at my eyes. His breath smelled like coffee and mixed with the scent of the cologne he was wearing.  
"Jester, can you say something now?" he repeated his request.  
"Where, where am I?" my voice was hoarse.  
"In a hospital, I've been treating you," the handsome man answered.  
"For what? Who are you?"  
"My name is Dr. Jonathan Crane. You were hurt badly when my employer brought you back," Jonathan recounted, "You still have toxins in your system. You've woken up before, but still hallucinating. I'm afraid the restraints are for when you hallucinate again. You lash out in fear."   
"Where is this place? Why am I here?"  
"I-I told you, you're in a hospital after being hurt," Dr. Crane returned to leaning over me and gently held open my eyes one at a time to examine them.  
"Where's the Joker?" I demanded and pulled against the restraints, "Why aren't I with him?"  
Dr. Crane stepped back and watched me struggle until I twisted against my hip restraint and yelped. He returned to my side and felt my midsection with his hands. I flinched when his fingers and palms pressed below my belly button. He glanced up at me and huffed hot air into his hands and continued lower. His face twisted in concern, he kept his warm hands on my skin above my pelvic area.  
"You have internal injuries in your vagina, I'm afraid you tore stitches loose just now, I have to check," he never faltered his gaze.  
"What?" panic rising in my chest.  
"No, its okay. I've had to tend to this injury after you tore it before, its simple," Jonathan assured me. His hands moved to my bedside. He pulled several levers in a proper order to sit me almost upright and spread my legs as a gynecologist's patient bed does. I was able to have a clear view of myself now. Bruises dotted my skin that I could see and bite marks, both clustered around my pelvis. I had thin hospital blankets over me to cover my body. The one over my chest fell to my stomach when I was sat up. Jonathan Crane pulled a stool on wheels between my legs and sat on it. His head was parallel with my feet.  
"I'll be as gentle as possible, Jester," Dr. Crane whispered. He looked down at my vaginal opening and back up at my face, "May I?"  
"You're the doctor," I answered and he sucked his index finger before inserting the ungloved finger into my vagina. He explored with one finger, gazing into the distance in thought or into my eyes. He looked down and quickly back up. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't. He added a second finger and third quickly after it, stretching my opening. His thumb traced tight circles around my clitoris.  
"Wait, are you really a docto-" I tried to ask, but ended in a gasp as my vision when white and my hips bucked against the restraints and my body flooded with endorphins. Dr. Crane watched me on his bed convulse and when I stopped, chest heaving, his pressed his fingers into the same spot and repeated the same until my head rolled on my pillow. His fingers kept moving inside me, deeper than before and his thumb flicked my clit after each completed circle.  
"I assure you, darling, I am a doctor," Jonathan's voice was husky. I remembered that where I saw him last was the last time I was with Joker. He was with the men who took me away from a shattered building. He pressed his fingers into the same soft spot again and I lost my train of thought again. Jonathan Crane hungrily devoured the sight of me.  
"You are exquisite," he breathed. When my vagina unclenched around his fingers, he removed them and wiped off my vulva and the edge of my bed with a cloth wet in warm water, "Your injury is healing so nicely, darling. You are magnificent. Increased blood flow will aid in the healing process." He simply stated the last sentence back in his even doctor voice. He inserted an object cold and much larger into my vagina.  
"No, what are you doing?" I asked weakly without lifting my head. My eyes couldn't focus on him I was so exhausted and suddenly his face was in front of mine and he pressed his lips against mine earnestly. His tongue pushed into my mouth. I gulped for breath because I wasn't prepared for a kiss when he was on me. He sucked in air through his nose and breathed it into my lungs. My body falling quickly into rythym with his like we've done this before.  
His left hand left my face to trace down my strapped arm to interlace with my own fingers tenderly. He stayed like this with his right hand cupping my face, giving me the very air to breathe before he left hand left my face. A single finger trailed down my throat and followed my collarbone to my blank chest. His fingers traced my tattoos he must have memorized while I was unconscious. His hand brushed down my right side, pausing to hold my hip. The thought popped into my mind that we've been kissing for so long like this, if Crane didn't breathe with me I would've passed out by now. His hand left my hip and I felt his fingertips barely brush the middle of my stomach on the way back to the unknown object he left partially inside me. My back arched against the restraints and pressed against his kiss when he pushed the object I knew now was a sex toy fully inside me. It was a 'rabbit' and the other arm of it pushed the hood off of my clitoris. A large bump on the shaft pressed into my soft spot inside. Dr. Crane, still doubtful he was a real doctor, pressed the button on the end of it and it began to vibrate and the arm suctioned my clit to the end of it. I bucked against the restraints again, breaking the kiss. Crane went to a sink and washed his hands while I convulsed on the bed.  
I tried to focus my vision in vain. My legs were jelly and just wobbled in their restraints now. My fingers grasped and ungrasped at the air. Crane suddenly stood over me again at my head. His cologne and coffee musk filled my nose. He steadied my face against one hand and opened my eyelids again to examine my eyes.  
"You must be hungry, Jester. Your extreme weakness may be tied to lack of nutrition," Crane said outloud to me even though I couldn't respond. He quickly left the room entirely and the lock was audibly fastened. His musk faded away and I yearned to smell it again. I wanted his hands on my body again and his eyes watching me. Time slipped away while I waited. I tears welled up in my eyes even though I tried to stop them. Why was I crying? Joker never allowed me to cry.  
The door opened again. It was Jonathan Crane returned with a plastic hospital container cup full of a thick beige colored liquid.  
"This is liquid diet, it has all the correct amounts-" he stopped midsentence when he noticed my red eyes and nose and cheeks. He put the cup down on the cabinet where his pad had been left hours ago and was back at my side. He kissed the tears under my eyes, my nose, and returned to my eyes. I tilted my head up of my own volition. He pulled back looking at me. He smiled and ran his fingers through my hair.  
"Did you miss me, darling?" he cooed between quick kisses scattered on my face and neck. He sucked and licked at my neck, his hands roamed my flat chest where nipples and breasts were at one time. His voice turned husky again, "You missed me..." he repeated again. Tears streamed down my face from embarassment. If Joker could see me now, he would surely make good on his word. My mind and body was wrapped around this stranger. My heart raced from his affection. Crane returned his ministrations to my face and it seemed he was going to reinstigate a long kiss, but he pulled away.  
"You need to eat, I can't ignore your most basic needs," he spoke in his doctor voice again. He brought the liquid diet straw to my lips, but another orgasm rocked my body and I let myself moan his name in time with the muscle contractions. He stared at me in silence.  
"Say my full name for me, darling," his voice dropped an octave again.  
"Jooonaaathaan Craane!"  
"Say my name with your pretty lips again."  
"Joonaathan...," I tried to say, but my voice dropped off to a whisper.  
"We need you to eat, I keep getting distracted," he refocused. He held the cup and straw to my lips, but I didn't care to even try to suck the thick shake up. As empty as my stomach was, riding out the waves of ecstasy were more far more alluring. Dr. Crane stopped trying to work that way out and thought of how he could get calories into me in this state. He hated the thought of taking me off the thrill I was riding because the possibility of me fighting him when I recovered my senses was too much. He watched my chest heave to breathe. He thought over a new idea looking at the shake. He sipped a small mouthful into his mouth and kissed me. I gladly opened my mouth to breathe easier with his help again, but his tongue pushed bland liquid into my mouth. My fogged brain was slow to respond and Dr. Crane waited until I gulped it down to feed me another sip.  
His decision to keep me cumming and shaking under his power rather than feed myself was rooted in his aim for me to continue to be devoted to him after I was let out of his complete control.  
With some "food" in my stomach my visiom refocused and I had enough energy to speak between cumming.  
"You're not a real doctor, are you?" I asked. Crane stopped, swallowing the mouthful of liquid diet to answer.  
"I certainly am a doctor, Jester. I'm one of the best doctors alive today," he was indignant.  
"What are you a doctor of, then? What hospital am I in? This is an old tile room with a mirror wall! What kind of hospital is this?!"   
"Shh. Its okay, Jester, you're safe with me here. We're in my employer's hospital," he spoke soothingly and ran his fingers in my hair.   
"But what hospital is this?" I asked quietly.  
"Gotham Asylum," Dr. Crane whispered, "Scarecrow opened it back up. Shh, don't worry I'm in charge of all the patients."   
My face jerked up in another convulsion. Crane surveyed my body move and a hand felt me up and down.  
"You've cum so many times for me today, darling," he admired as my body relaxed again. I started sobbing and his smile turned sour.  
"Please make it stop, let me go," I begged him. He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. He perused my sobbing face while I pleaded, "Joker," I croaked. His face softened.  
"Oh, hush my darling, the Joker won't be able to hurt you here," Jonathan brushed the tear streaks away, "He will never see you again. And wouldn't you rather be with me?" Dr. Crane pushed himself on the stool back between my legs. He pulled levers again while he talked, so the bed had me laying down again, but with my ankles still parallel with Dr. Crane's head, "I saw how confused you were when you first orgasmed for me, Jester. Your body has writhed in pleasure like its never done before. I've kept you cumming for hours now, so easily I can make your beautiful body sing.That is how it always will be between us, darling. You lived to serve the Joker. We will live for each other," Dr. Crane punctuated the sentence by thrusting his swollen cock into my vagina. I'd only heard him rustling and didn't realize what he was doing. I gasped and breathed in as he pulled out to thrust inside me again. His entire length pushed against the back of my vaginal wall. If I still had a cervix or uterus I'm fairly sure the head of his penis would've pushed through into my womb. My hips bucked against his and he unlatched that restrain, so I could freely match his movements. He was grunting and sweating through his dress shirt. I sank deeper onto his cock, my hands were still restrained above my head. Dr. Crane slid a hand up my inner thigh every so often to rewet my vagina since it discharged from the sensation. I moaned everytime until the last when I asked him,  
"Please, my hands. I want to touch you."  
He pressed his sweaty forehead against mine,  
"Just, say my name for me during your next orgasm, darling."  
"When will-Jonaathaan Craaaane!" I shouted. He had fit his index finger in above his cock and pressed the soft spot again. My legs shook in the stirrups. Crane smiled and pressed a sloppy kiss to my lips.  
"Your freedom, my love," he said.  
With my hands unrestrained I tangled my fingers in his hair and kissed him with all the energy I had left. He pushed me back down on the bed and returned it with fervor.  
A dull thud scared us both from the mirror wall. The glass shook. Dr. Crane growled and watched it before returning his dark eyes to mine. He renewed thrusting and asked,  
"Is it okay if I cum inside you?" I nodded, but he shook his head, "I want you to shout "Yes, Dr. Jonathan Crane, please cum inside me!" his were hungry again.   
"YES, DR. JONATHAN CRANE!" I screamed and had to get another breath, "PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME!"  
He smiled and thrusted faster, I scratched his back lightly and he growled with a smile. He thrusted one last time and I felt his dick twitch as it emptied its warm liquid in my vagina. He waited and pumped a few more times to ejaculate the straggling drops inside me. He pressed a kiss on my lips and sat back on his stool exhausted.


	3. Chapter 3

-Scarecrow's Side of the Story-  
When the Joker took over Gotham, Dr. Crane arranged a meeting as Scarecrow sending his assistant. Crane hoped to be given control of Gotham Central Hospital to continue his research. He came with two henchmen and a briefcase of money which the Joker had stipulated.  
The meeting place was the museum art gallery, which since his takeover, Joker had turned into his personal club. The speakers blared music. Strobe lights were added onto the walls as well. Furniture was arranged from various actual clubs in Gotham. The high glass ceiling let in the night sky and from one of the cross beams hung green aerial silk. A gorgeous young woman worked the silk, taking pointers from another woman who sat on the beam above her drinking. He drank in how high above the noise and lighting, the moonlight made her naturally pale skin glow in contrast to the garish white make-up he expected to see on all of the Joker's goons to match their employer and former employer, Harley Quinn.  
"You must be the Scarecrow's assistant! Hahaha, I was expecting someone a little more dramatic," the Joker cackled as he walked up with strippers in tow. Dr. Crane pulled his eyes from the vision above them all to conduct the meeting. The Joker had them sit in a booth.  
"Girls, see to our guests' needs," Joker interrupted him again. His bodyguards were pulled away by barely dressed dancers who giggled. One woman slid into the booth next to Dr. Crane while another climbed over the Joker to be at his other side.  
"Pardon me, I'm here for business," he swatted their hands away from him. The Joker frowned.  
"Why do you have to be such a stick in the mud, Doctor?" he growled. The women watched Joker, no longer smiling, they looked scared. Dr. Crane gulped and looked back up to the dancer in the moonlight. She had paused to watch them, their eyes met although he didn't know if she could see him in the darkness and flashing lights. Joker slammed his fist down on the table. The women jumped. Dr. Crane pulled his eyes from the angelic figure above them.  
"So you like my Jester, do you?" Joker seethed, "I bet you'd let her touch you."  
Jonathan thought to himself that it seems he triggered a weak spot in Joker's mind. The display of possessive paranoia was excessive. Dr. Crane would have thought he was watching a bad actor if it wasn't the Clown Prince of Crime in front of him. He stayed silent, anything he said would be used against him in the Joker's mind.  
"She's a beautiful one isn't she? Flexible. Young. MINE!" he spat when he screamed.  
Dr. Crane's bodyguards were back, pulling him out of the booth and towards the door. Joker's Jester slid down her silk and ran onto Joker's lap. Dr. Crane pulled against his hired hands slightly to keep her in view. She was pressing her mouth over his. One hand was inside his pants massaging him. He yanked her hair back and held a knife against her bare throat with a shaky hand.  
Dr. Crane's two henchmen easily overpowered his strained attempt at pulling away and carried him out the door when high pitched screams erupted from the art gallery club.  
The next day, the strippers were on display hung up and their mouths stapled into gastly smiles. The Joker sent out teams of his own men to attack Dr. Crane's, he lost a quarter of his manpower. They moved deeper into the old asylum and he plotted how he would get his revenge and torture the Joker. He padded the floors and walls of an observation office connected via a one-way mirror to the observation room. He tested again and again if the office was sealed and soundproof. He modified a restraint bed and prepared for the day.  
His coup succeeded without a hitch. Gotham Central Bank where Joker made his headquarters wasn't as secure as a good headquarters should've been. He obviously expected no retribution. Crane brought back both his enemy and his prize to the asylum and waited for Jester to regain consciousness. He restrained her in the bed before personally sealing the office up with brick. The Joker inside was in a straightjacket chained to the wall. Once sealed inside, Crane radioed for concentrated fear gas to be pumped into the room. Normally, not being able to record the results would have bothered him, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to explore Jester's body at his leisure. He limited himself to his hands while she was unconscious. He tended to her bruises and bites from him acting the part of Joker in his office with the mask on.  
He would never be anything, but gentle for her from now on. He unlatched the bed on wheels to turn it to face the mirror wall where Joker could appreciate the full view.  
While Jester was still deeply unconscious, Crane pulled the levers to spread her feet to either side of his head and took his time to admire and caress her externally and internally. Her body writhed and she almost woke up when he found her G spot. He leaned forward and planted kisses on her stomach. She couldn't wake up yet with his hand inside her, so he fought down the ache to be able to make her orgasm until her mind was gone.  
She woke up a few times, but her brain was still intoxicated with his serum. She screamed and pleaded with the Joker of her darkest dreams. Dr. Crane held chloroform over her nose and mouth each time to release her from the waking nightmare. He sketched her body's curves on his pad of notes while he waited. He was terrible for drawing faces and details such as her tattoos, so he settled for her form. He didn't *need* to draw her anyways. He had the real Jester with him. He had Gotham in his power and this new far more alluring project. She could love him back, all the building blocks were laid out in proper order. She would never learn that he was also destroying the Joker while putting their new life together.


	4. Chapter 4

My head fell back against the patient bed again. My body was exhausted. My head pounded from dehydration now and my stomach felt like I was being stabbed with hunger pains. Still, I wanted to get up from the bed and walk.  
"Dr. Crane..." my voice was so quiet and soft. I lifted my head to see him on his stool, but he wasn't there. A hand stroked my hair and again his musk of cologne and coffee hit the back of my nose.  
"Call me Jonathan," he smiled above me, looking into my eyes with his as if he was searching for something. I tried to reach up and touch his face, but my wrists were restrained again. I looked at my arms and started to cry. I couldn't keep myself collected like Joker spent so long training me to do. Jonathan kissed the tears under my eyes and asked between kisses,  
"Why are you crying? Haven't I done well?"  
His wavy black hair and eyelashes brushed against my face, but I couldn't touch him. My heart pounded against my chest,  
"Why won't you let me touch you?"  
His forehead fell against mine again, when he spoke his lips brushed mine,  
"Let me give you everything the Joker didn't," the words stopped coming easily to him. He moved back to his stool between my legs, finding what he wanted to say as he walked, "You are a work of art. Meant to be admired. To be worshipped."  
Jonathan Crane traced his fingers slowly up one of my inner thighs while kissing my other, closing the distance back to my vulva.  
"Let me worship you," he groaned before eating me out. The restraint on my hips stopped my body from bucking into his face, though his one hand that held my thigh still and his other that held my hip could feel the involuntarily responses.   
"Imagine....my thoughts....when Scarecrow brought to me a goddess on earth and told me she was just the Joker's collared pet. Not his muse. Not his reason for living," Dr. Crane found his eloquent words again. The words he used to describe me felt misplaced. Undeserved. They were for someone better than me. Sobs tore out of my chest.  
"Am I not pleasing you?" Dr. Crane sounded panicked. He lifted his head from his meal and wiped his mouth and chin with the cloth, "What am I doing wrong?" His hands stretched up my sides, holding onto my curves and his thumb pressing the edge of my stomach like he was desparately trying to hold onto me when I was the one constrained to the table.   
"Why are you lying? Why are you saying these things? Where's Joker?"  
He pulled the lever to tilt me so I was sitting almost upright. He undid the leather cuffs on my wrists and gripped the sides of my ass with the same desperation.   
"I mean every word I say to you. You are exquisite," those long eyelashes blinked over his brown eyes pleading with me to listen to him. He searched in my eyes to recognise any sign that I believed what he said, "You are a goddess on earth, let me worship you!" His voice strained. His mouth returned to the outside of my vagina, he sucked on my clit before pushing his tongue past my labia and hymen. He looked up to see if I watched his worship. I tentatively interlaced my fingers in his hair and in response he worked harder. I watched his head bob in and out slightly as he tried different angles just to please *me*.  
He had been in complete control for hours upon hours, yet Jonathan was the opposite from Joker. He was gentle, when he looked at me his eyes were not shadowed in rage. His every touch was tender and *warm*. I closed my eyes to enjoy his devotion. The so-called Clown Prince was not much more than rabid animal in comparison.  
"You're what a real prince is," I whispered. I quaked. I didn't mean to say that aloud. Dr. Crane paused. He licked a stripe up my labia as he pulled his head away. He cleaned himself again before speaking. My body kept shaking.  
"What did you say?" he asked softly. When I had spoken like this to Joker he reacted badly, reminders that I really loved him set him off on violent tirades. Jonathan held of my hands that were still tangled in his hair with his own, but I pulled both hands away against my chest. My face felt cold, my color probably drained away again. I knew I was having a panic attack, but I couldn't get myself away to privacy like I always did before. Dr. Crane stood up and started to lean over me, but he stopped again. He went quickly to the cabinet and swished mouthwash around and spat it down the sink drain. He returned to his place between my knees and as fast as possible he unbuckled the last leather restraints.  
I was terrified, what was happening now that I said that? That he knew I felt real feelings? I started blubbering out apologies, but swallowed back down further "sorries". That only earned me more pain when I was younger from Joker. Dr. Crane leaned over me again, he didn't stop, he closed the space between us and pressed his lips to mine. One arm circled behind my waist and pulled my body against his. His other hand lifted one cheek off the old hospital bed and my legs wrapped around him. My arms were already around his neck.  
"You love me don't you?" he smiled against my lips.   
"I think so," I smiled back and kissed him again. He lifted me off the old bed. I was carried out of the room and into an old tiled hallway just like it. He walked past several wooden office doors and entered an open room. Papers piled at a desk with books, an old twin sized bed was against the wall. He walked me to the bed and kneeled over me, joining me at last on a bed I wasn't tied to.  
"This is where you stay?" I asked increduously, looking at the cobweb covered record shelf. He laughed, his eyes lit up when he laughed,  
"Is this not a prince's castle, my darling?" he chuckled and peppered kisses across my face, "No, this is the office I've been sleeping in while waiting for you to wake up." He kneeled above me to loosen his tie and undo his buttons. I lay waiting smiling. "This also has the nearest comfortable bed," he added. I giggled and he smiled wider, "I truly make you happy! I can make you the happiest girl in Gotham for the rest of our lives, my darling."   
Jonathan left his shirt half undone to fumble with his pants again, he was really, honestly excited by my happiness. I pulled him back down to resume kissing, I tried to bring my tongue to cross into his mouth, but chickened out. He felt my tongue against his lips and plunged his into my mouth. His arms held my waist against him off the bed.  
Such little things. A giggle. An unsuccessful french kiss. My already hot face blushed thinking about how this man absolutely adored me. I didn't need to pretend. I didn't need to lie or calculate my responses. I pulled my face away from his,  
"I don't want to be called Jester anymore," I announced.  
"What's your real name?" he asked, both our hands resumed undoing his shirt and pants.  
"I never knew," I replied, "I like yours, especially when I say it like," I shouted it like I was orgasming again, "Jonaathaan Craaane!" Jonathan watched me hungrily, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. His dick was out again, lining up with my entrance, but he was as naked as I was and neither of us tied down.  
"You won't have to pretend in a moment, my dear," he promised before thrusting into me. I gripped the bedsheets above my head. "I want you to have your own name, separate from mine."  
"Whyyy," I crooned in his ear, "Why can' t I be yours?"  
"You've never been your own," he huffed out between thrusts. "You're so young, so beautiful, so perfect. First you were the Joker's daughter and then when you were old enough you were another of his concubines. You're an angel the Joker cut the wings off of to keep you from flying away." Jonathan spoke like poetry above me even while filling me with his cock. "I'm the handsome and clever doctor who will give you a new pair to fly with. I hope you return to me with them, but you'll have your own choice."  
"I'll always come back to you," I answered without hesitation.  
"How can you be so sure?" he asked.  
"Because I love you more than I've ever thought pos-SIBLE!" I shouted while he emptied again inside me. He pressed a kiss against my lips as he thrust the last drops into me. He started pulling out until I shouted 'wait'.  
"I love feeling filled by you. I loved the kisses before when you breathed into my lungs," Jonathan pushed his length back inside me and leaned down for our lips to meet for the hundreth time, but I blocked him with my palm, "And I liked being tied up with you..." I whispered. He licked my palm and leaned over the edge of the bed to retrieve his tie. In a matter of minutes, my hands were tied together to his headboard and I was in a familiar, exhilirating situation. My nose and cheeks were bright red from blushing. I hadn't asked for things during sex before, much less had acts performed for my pleasure. Dr. Crane met my partially opened lips and I opened my mouth in time with his. He filled his own lungs with air and then breathed life giving oxygen into my own. He was my everything now. He was in complete control again and again was tender and warm. His hands traced up and down my back, holding me against him. His long eyelashes brushed against my eyelids. I could feel his heart pounding like mine, chest against chest. His softness enveloped me. He was inside me, and held me against him. I never wanted this to end.  
I don't remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke to the rythym of his thrusts.  
"Good morning," he grunted happily, "we overdid it yesterday. You're still weak and you slept so soundly. I couldn't wake you by normal methods, I thought this would do the trick," he chuckled and held his last thrust inside me. I felt his penis twitching inside me, "I have no more semen to give you, my love. We fooled around until the early morning, did you realize?"  
"No, my attention was held elsewhere," I purred.  
"As was mine," he beamed. He pulled out of me and wiped us both off with a wet cloth again he brought on a cart into his temporary office. He untied my wrists from his headboard to retie his tie around his neck. It was badly wrinkled, as was his dark dress shirt. He pulled his pants back up from his ankles. I sat up slowly, our fluids trickled out of my vagina.  
"No, hold on," he said and grabbed a towel. He wiped up the trail that formed and pushed the towel under the edge of my ass, Now you can sit up," he pulled my up next to him. More spilled out onto the towel.  
"Where are you going? Where am I going?" I turned away to look up at him.  
"We'll both head upstairs now that you're well," Jonathan answered.  
"I don't have clothes to wear," I pointed out. He dressed himself to go upstairs and it made me expect other people.   
"I brought you some of mine to wear," Jonathan said, "I think they'll fit you," he wasn't quite sure of himself. He picked up neatly folded clothes from the bottom of the cart. I pulled the white t-shirt over my head while he wiped my vulva dry with another cloth. I stood up to put his underwear and dress pants on, Jonathan moved me by his hands on my waist to stand between his legs in front of him.  
"I'd like to watch with the best view," he said.   
"You want to watch me get dressed?"  
"I want to watch you put on *my* clothes. I want to see you covered in my possessions like a billboard to everyone we walk past," he said thoughtfully.  
"My clever doctor who wants me to fly away also wants everyone to know whose I am," I teased him as I slowly pulled his underwear up.  
"Your clever doctor wants you to love him, not belong to him," Jonathan corrected, handing me the pants. I pulled them on, but they were several inches too long.   
"Put my shirt on and we'll fix the pants for now?"  
I put the shirt on, it barely fit my hips and shoulders. He zipped and buttoned my pants. Brushing out the few wrinkles down to my feet. I sat down after I finished his shirt to put his socks and shoes on. He tucked his shirt into his waistband around me. He knelt in front of me and cuffed the pant legs.  
"Now let's look at you," he twirled his finger to tell me to twirl. After I did, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him.  
"I'll show you my real rooms now," he grinned.  
"Can I see the kitchen first?" I asked.  
"Maybe you should've listened to your doctor about the liquid diet instead of craving my dick last night," he was smug about it while he opened the door into the hallway. We walked past the old elevator to climb the stairs. Its being fixed, he told me, but we don't have to come down here again. The first floor was already much better lit than the basement. Henchmen moved crates and boxes around. Scarecrow is fixing the asylum up, he whispered. We climbed past two more floors, but floors which the stairway doors were shut to. The fourth floor was all his. Rewards for being loyal and successful, Jonathan said. The fourth floor wing closest to this stair case was modified into ample living space. Dr. Crane showed me into the kitchen, though there weren't real walls separating the spaces. I picked up a roll of bread and orange juice to eat at the table. Dr. Crane sat across from me and drank cold, black coffee.  
"I have a surprise for you back on the first floor after you've eaten," he announced.  
"What kind of surprise?"  
"A nice one," he laughed.  
"Oh my god, is it a puppy?" I half-joked. Jonathan burst out laughing.  
"That'll certainly be your next gift," he said. I leaned on the table to reach across it to give him a kiss.  
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," I whispered and sat back down. Jonathan gazed at me in contemplation.   
"I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you," he whispered. My face turned red again, I stopped smiling so widely.  
"I'm only 18," I croaked. He looked shocked and stammered,  
"I-I'm th-thirty-two," barely audible. I waited for him to say something. The silence was deafening. I tried to reason with him.  
"Joker raised me since I was 4, Harley left him when I was 9 and when I got my period that year he took me to bed," I blurted out, "I know I'm so young, but I love you, Jonathan! I love y-" he leaned over the table now kissing me. He pulled away and sat back down.  
"I'll only leave you when you tell me to," he said, "I knew you were young. I didn't realize, I didn't think..."  
Jonathan grabbed my hands and held them in his own.   
"Do you want to see your present?" he changed the subject. I nodded and followed him, still holding one of my hands. I twisted my hand so our fingers interlaced. He looked at me and smiled. On the first floor he led me across the foyer of the asylum to two large doors that opened into the pool room. The glass roof above the pool let in sunlight. One of the cross beams over concrete around the pool at an aerial silk tied onto it. Under it was mattresses for falls.  
"How did you know?"  
"Scarecrow has lots of eyes and ears in Gotham," Jonathan smiled and guestured to the silk. I ran to it and kicked off his shoes. I started to climb, but his dress shirt was too tight on my shoulders. I unbuttoned it and let it fall below me. Jonathan gathered up the discarded clothing neatly and sat down in an old spa armchair next to mattress under me to watch. He asked in a walkie talkie for a clean up cart to be brought to him. A henchman rolled the cart next to Dr. Crane and shut the doors behind him. Jonathan stroked himself while watching me practice again. My pelvis was so sore from our own "practice" yesterday, I fumbled more than anything in the air. I slid down the silks back to earth. Jonathan tucked himself back into his pants and wiped off his hand. I walked on tiptoes to him and sat on his lap.  
"I don't want to mess up your underwear and pants, so you have to behave," I ordered.  
"Yes, I swear," he laughed, "I asked Scarecrow to have men bring you clothing to look through, so that should be brought to us tomorrow." I nodded, distracted by running my fingers through his hair. He leaned back, "that's not fair, if I have to behave, so do you."  
"But you're wearing your own clothes!" I giggled. I could feel his erection come back in his pants.  
"I only asked for one aerial silk for this," he breathed heavily, "if I knew you liked to be tied up, I'd have ordered black ones to use in bed."   
"Your ties work well enough," I whispered. He gulped and his eyelashs flitted.  
"And also, I've never liked it before," I added, "it must be something about my handsome, clever doctor that I like."  
Jonathan gripped the arms of the chair and bit his bottom lip. I was playing a dangerous game and I loved it. If I ever did this with Joker, he'd hurt me. Being with Jonathan, having guaranteed safety I didn't before, it made me want to cross lines I stayed far from before.  
"You're the only man I've ever wanted inside me, Dr. Jonathan Crane," I tempted him too far. He pushed us both off the rattan chair and onto the mattresses. He sucked on my neck to leave hickies covering my skin where everyone could see. I scratched his back lightly and wrapped my legs around his hips while he grinded into me, his erection painful for friction.  
He had to throw out both those pants that night.


	5. Chapter 5

"Rebecca," Dick Grayson said my name again.  
"DICK," I spat back.  
"You need to eat! Don't force us to put a tube down your throat!" Dick shouted.  
"Master Grayson, please don't lose your temper with her," Alfred called from outside my cell in the Batcave. Jonathan and I were kidnapped when Batman stormed into the Asylum. He was back from studying abroad apparently. Our fairytale life came crashing down around us. I tried a few different names out and settled on Rebecca, and Jonathan called me Becca for short. I danced for him in the evenings on the silk in the moonlight after he had a difficult day. He loved to watch me when the moon was bright.  
Before fucking Batman and his not-sidekick sent everything to shit. Dick Grayson was put in charge of me while Bats had Jonathan locked up somewhere else. Dick stormed out of my cell and grumbled to Alfred and stormed back in. He held a tablet in my face to look at.  
"LOOK, THERE'S YOUR BELOVED KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR!" he shouted. The tablet showed security footage of Jonathan putting on a scarecrow mask before entering a gassed building. I kicked Dick's leg from under him and laughed loudly as he picked himself back up.  
"That just makes me more wet for him, are you fucking kidding me?!" I laughed in Dick's face to get him mad, "I was raised by and fucked by the Joker, what the fuck do you expect?" I cackled.  
"JUST FUCKING EAT!" Dick shouted over my laughter and punched my face. My nose bled quickly and I spat my blood on his face.  
"GO FIND ANOTHER DICK AND SUCK IT OFF, SIDEKICK!" I cackled more. Alfred pulled Dick out of my cell and sent him away to get cleaned up. Alfred judged me from the door.  
"What, am I not pretty enough anymore?" I spat more blood on the floor.  
"Your family resemblance is uncanny," Alfred slowly stated.  
"Fuck you," I shot back.  
"How original," Alfred replied. I pulled against the ziptie through the metal rung. I gave into my anger and yanked. The tie snapped and I bodyslammed Alfred, a happy accident, against the cave tunnell they call a hallway down here. I ran down the hall until I heard Bats' voice ask "what was that?" Jonathan shouted hoarsely, "Becca, just leave!" Bats' boots on the stone jogged up the hall towards me.  
Like hell, I thought angrily, you never put that mask on for supervillian sex and now you tell me to leave you behind?  
I looked around me and focused on the pipes running the length of tunnel. I stepped back and crouched. Bats came to the intersection with his knock-out gas ready. He turned and pointed his glove down at me on the floor.  
"Don't-"  
"Move?" I grunted and launched myself up to the pipe, swinging my entire weight to kick his stomach. I didn't send him as far back as I'd have liked. I ran down the hall that opened up to a giant main control screen. Jonathan was bleeding onto his lovely suit and tied to a handrail bent over it. He looked at me in despair when I ran to him.  
"No, I told you to leave without me!" he shouted at me.  
I broke his zipties and helped him up. His bones cracked painfully and he held his chest.  
"No, no, no, no, no," I blubbered holding his chest. He smiled up at me from the floor and stroked my face.  
"Go darling, you can keep living for both of us, Becca," he smiled. I shook my head and held his hand over his chest.  
"I think what you need is a guy your own age," Dick Grayson said above us both. He pulled me away from Jonathan in a chokehold. I let an animal inside me out that I'd been terrified of from the Joker. I jumped and rolled Dick over and in front of me. I tackled him again, rolling with him to keep him disarrayed. We stopped with me on top of him and I punched with my wrist and an open palm the way Joker taught me on henchmen after Harley left. Dick gargled his blood.  
"Becca, please go," Jonathan croaked.  
Bats stabbed me with a syringed dart on the back of my neck. I pulled it out and stabbed Dick in the chest with the little thing before wheeling around to face Batman.  
"What have you done to Jester?" Batman asked Jonathan.  
"What you always wished you could, Batsy. He set me *free*!" I screamed. I ran and fell into a slide at him. He used a grappling line to jump high above me, but I pushed myself up with my elbow I was sliding on and redirected the forward momentum up at an angle. I caught his shins and threw up back down with me. His line broke from the rock ceiling. Alfred stepped towards us from the relative safety of the hall.  
"Her name is Rebecca, Master Batman," he corrected Batman from calling me by my old name. He looked at me curiously while I slowly began to lose consciousness. Batman groaned underneath me, my knee on his chest. Alfred looked from Jonathan and back to me, "You two made each other better versions of yourselves."  
"What?" Batman groaned beneath me. His arms started to move. I yanked his left glove the dart came from and pointed it back at his face.  
"You don't need to do that, Rebecca. Go back to your doctor," Alfred cautiously stepped forward.  
"He made this necessary," I hissed back.  
"No, go back to Dr. Crane's side. I'll make sure Batman doesn't disturb you," Alfred repeated himself and cocked a handgun pointed at Batman. My mind was going black. I wanted to die with Jonathan. I threw the glove over the edge of the platform and ran back to him. Alfred lowered the gun behind me and helped Bats sit up. He whispered in his ear.  
Jonathan opened his eyes again and smiled, "You still have time to fly." Tears escaped my eyes and I fell over onto him.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
I woke up in to a clean white ceiling and sunlight. Alfred walked past with bloody bandages. I swung my torso off where I was laying, but I had restraints on me again and the entire temporary gurney fell over. Alfred sighed and turned around.  
"Look at the mess you've made now," he shook his head at me.  
"WHERE'S JONATHAN?" I shrieked at him. Bruce Wayne came running into the room with another fucking dartgun.  
"Are you okay, Alfred?" he anxiously asked.  
"Yes, Sir. Rebecca was testing the strengths of her restraints," Alfred replied calmly.  
"WHERE IS HE?!" I repeated myself.  
"How is she?" Bruce asked his butler.  
"If she didn't injure herself just now, she's fit as a fiddle," Alfred informed him.  
"WHERE'S JONATHAN!!" I shrieked as loudly as I could. The fuckers were pretending not to hear me.  
"Becca?" Jonathan croaked from somewhere close.  
"JONATHAN!" I just screamed his name and sobbed. He was still alive. My gurney was lifted back upright by Bruce Wayne. He pulled a wooden chair up to my side.  
"Tell me about Jonathan, Rebecca," he said calmly.  
"Let me see him, let me be with him," I demanded. I glared back at Bats' unreadable face. Alfred left through a door in front of me and I could catch a glimpse of Jonathan in a more permanent hospital bed hooked up to machines, "JONATHAAAN!" I screamed my throat hoarse and coughed.  
"He's getting a considerable amount of morphine, I'm surprised he registered your voice and answered," Batman said with a sigh, "Tell me about Jonathan."  
"Let me be with him," I cried. Bruce sighed again,  
"We're going in circles here, Rebecca. I need you to calm down," he said while walking away to the door he entered through. I tested the restraints on my wrists. They were cheap like the gurney. I braced my elbows against the bed and tore the cuffs from the bed. Bruce turned around and started running back in surprise. I undid the giant velcro bands on the rest of me and swung off the side of it. I flipped it at him with all my strength. Ieft the shitty downton abbey looking room and crossed the hall to Jonathan.  
"Are you okay, Master Wayne?" Alfred called behind him.  
"Yeah, he's dand-," I started to answer, but Alfred changing Jonathan's bloody chest bandages stopped me from gloating. Jonathan turned to look up at me and weakly said "Becca". Alfred had also turned around in shock, but he didn't move his hands from carefully taking care of Jonathan.  
Large arms pulled mine behind my back and lifted me from the ground in a painful hold.  
"Master Wayne, before you take her away , ask her if she'll behave herself if we let her sit with Dr. Crane," Alfred suggested.  
"Yeah, yep. Yes, I will," I nodded.  
"She just threw the gurney at me, Alfred," Bruce protested.  
"It was a cheap gurney, Master Wayne," Alfred turned to face us. 'Master Wayne' dropped me back on my feet. I went around Jonathan's bed to his other side and leaned over him.  
"Hello again, doctor," I whispered.  
"Hello again, darling," he whispered back. I stroked his hair while Alfred explained a couple of his ribs were just cracked and he was spitting up blood that night because his nose was broken.  
"Shame, isn't it, darling? My nose is ruined," Jonathan laughed quietly. I rolled my eyes at him.  
"Why didn't you kill us?" I asked Bruce.  
"I was never going to kill you," Bruce pointed out as if that made it better.  
"Why didn't you kill Jonathan and beat me into a pulp?" I asked sarcastically.  
"You know, I wasn't going to do that either, I was going to have you sent to the mental hospital to treat your trauma," Bruce retorted.  
"You mean have me locked up because you couldn't even save a little girl from the Joker? Much less the city?" I spat acid at him.  
"I tried! I tried for years, Jester, but as soon as he could, he trained you!"  
"My name isn't fucking Jester and as soon as I bled he fucked me too," I shouted back, "You don't see me crying to everyone about that!"  
"We should've let you both die in the Batcave," Batman growled.  
"Master Wayne, don't threaten guests of your manor now that that's what Dr. Crane and Rebecca are. I thought you learned to medidate in your absence," Alfred interrupted us.  
"You do yoga now like a basic bitch?" I cackled at him. He glared at me and stepped outside in the hall to do breathing exercises.  
"Rebecca, behave as if Dr. Crane is surviving because of our care because he is," Alfred commanded. He looked disappointed in me. As if he knew me at all. He took the bin of bloody bandages from the room with him. Bruce Wayne reentered and sat in the chair Alfred occupied.  
"Tell me why you gave Rebecca a genetic immunity to your fear serum, Scarecrow," Bruce asked in a carefully even tone.  
"He gave me what?" I was so confused, none of that sentence made sense.   
"The dart I shot you with was a dose of fear toxin. It had the effect of making you *sleepy*. I synthesized the vaccine from blood samples and have already sent out the first vials for Wayne Enterprises to duplicate. So, Scarecrow, why did you make the cure for your own toxin?" Bruce explained further.   
"Guess," Jonathan answered. Bruce kept eye contact with him until Jonathan turned his beautiful eyes to me. I smiled and kissed his lips.  
"It was your life's worth. You didn't even give yourself the immunity because you knew people could take it from your blood and make your work go up in a puff of smoke," Bruce said.  
"How long have you been waiting to use that pun, Bats?" I asked. Jonathan laughed quietly and held my face in one of his hands. I put my own hand over his stroked his hair with one hand now.  
"Why didn't you tell Rebecca who you were?" Bruce asked.  
"I wanted her to love me for me," Jonathan answered.  
"Where's Joker?" Bruce asked next.  
"Dead," Jonathan kept his eyes on mine, "I shot him when I took you away for what he's done to you." My blood went cold when I heard Jonathan say he shot the Joker. He shot the closest person I had to family. The man who killed my real family early on in his career and raised me himself out of guilt until the last shred of humanity left him.  
"I loved you when I first saw you, darling. When I first saw you when I tried to make a deal with Joker in the art gallery. You were magnificent. I'd never seen anyone like you before," Jonathan confessed, "I left thinking he killed you, but he hung up the strippers the next day. I went back and destroyed everything he had to get to you," Jonathan wheezed before continuing, "and you loved me back. You loved me!"  
Bruce Wayne watched us kiss before clearing his throat when I didn't pull away after a comfortable length of time.  
"Commissioner Gordon didn't understand why your fear serum testing slowed down. You stopped releasing it on hospital patients and homeless people."  
"I had a new hobby," Jonathan said nonchalantly as if it was that easy to stop killing people for fun.  
"Do you want to develop medicine again, Dr. Crane?" Bruce asked. Jonathan chuckled and then turned to him.  
"Are you serious?"  
"The only ones in Gotham that know your secret identity are inside this manor. You can develop medicine at Wayne Enterprises. You can live a life where you take Rebecca to parties and show her off on your arm. Be celebrated for curing diseases. You've already cured the infamous Scarecrow's fear serum, Dr. Crane," Bruce proposed. I couldn't believe what my ears were hearing. I squeezed Jonathan's hand.  
"We could get married and you could finally get me a dog," I whispered.  
We stayed in Wayne Manor until. Jonathan's ribs healed and his nose was just as perfect as it was before. When Dick the Prick woke up, I was lucky enough to be the one there to punch his lights out again. I wasn't allowed in his room after that.  
I didn't give a single shit.  
I was Rebecca Crane, wife and assistant to the illustrious Dr. Jonathan Crane, and owner of two of the best dogs you'll ever meet and an asshole of a cat that loves Jonathan.  
And I got to knock out Dick Grayson at a huge party too. People assumed he was dead-drunk and it was fucking hilarious.


	6. Chapter 6

I was walking to the door to leave a shop in my old neighborhood that I liked to visit sometimes. Jonathan didn't like me coming to the rougher parts of Gotham, but I didn't *need* his permission and he was away at work for Wayne, so he couldn't try to persuade me against it.  
My car was parked right in front of the store and I didn't spend a whole lot of time looking at the shelves.  
Still, it was long enough for a kid's shout for help to reach my ears.  
"Did you hear that?" I asked the owner at the register. My concern was visible and audible.  
"No, Miss Crane, please don't get involved," the owner replied. She knew me as Rebecca Crane, a rich and repeat customer. I told her I grew up in the area, but I didn't elaborate. I buried my past before Jonathan, I liked to imagine I buried it wherever he buried the Joker's body.   
"Just watch my car, please, Angela," I said while I left my bag on her counter with her. I walked out of the store and listened. I followed scuffling and grunts around a corner to an alley where some henchmen-looking wannabes were mugging a teenage boy. One of them pinned his arms behind his back and had an arm over his mouth and nose. Another was actually holding the kid's legs, while the third searched his pockets.   
"What, is this your first time mugging someone?" sarcasm dripped from my words. The muggers faced me and the one with the kid pinned snarled,  
"Stay out of this, pretty boy, this has nothing to do with you."  
I scoffed at them, while I took off my jacket and put it on a dry part of a dumpster's lid. I was going to go in with just my fists, but the dumpster had some rusted pipes leaning next to it. I leaned back to standing straight with my new pipe in my hand. I took a few ambling steps forwards while feeling out the weight of the pipe.  
"That is NOT how you speak to me," I hissed before my legs propelled me forward and I crashed my pipe up into the thug's head who was holding the kid's legs. He sprawled back on the muddy pavement and the kid swung his legs up and twisted himself around and out of the other's thug's arms like a circus act. I was in awe of his performance when the kid now looked to me and shouted, "Don't let him press the buzzer!" The third meathead was in shock and stumbling backwards to the metal door behind him. I lunged forward with my pipe and hit his shins, sending him falling forwards. I stood up again to bring my hell down on his head. His nose crunched into the asphalt. The kid still had his thug in a stranglehold, he was sitting on his shoulders being squeezed between the man and the wall. I lined myself up and jerked my head at the kid to get off him. The kid did a freaking flip off the guy that distracted me for a moment before I bashed the last pin to fall in the face with my pipe.  
"Who are you?"  
"Who are you?"  
We both asked each other at the same time. He wasn't all that much younger than me, but he looked so much older when he was serious and right now he was seriously staring me down.  
"My name is Rebecca Crane," I let my pipe fall and held up my empty hands halfway up.  
"Crane like Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow?" the teenager whispered dubiously.  
"How do you know who he is?" I grabbed the front of the kid's shirt and picked him off the ground, "No one is supposed to know who Jonathan is."   
Clothe flapping above me gave me advance warning to duck and roll, still holding onto this suspicious-as-fuck boy. Someone dressed in a black suite landed where we were standing. I got back up to my feet, still holding the kid, but by the back of his shirt collar now.  
"We shouldn't have ever trusted you, Jester. I knew you and Scarecrow wouldn't keep your noses clean," Nightwing growled. I bristled at the fucker. He deadnamed me and my darling, and he's just an all around asshole.  
"Fucking great, Grayson. Is this one yours?" I ask in reference to the teenager, "Wayne promised the only people who would know our pasts would be him, Alfred, and you. Seems like you're not the only dick in the manor."   
"Yeah he's with us," Dick Grayson said, "I'm not surprised you're working with Riddler now. You can't stop being a sidekick, can you?"  
"Stop, Nightwing, she helped me. She came down the alley and beat the guys up with me after I shouted for help when they took my earpiece," the kid shouted at Dick.  
"Stop, Damien, you don't know her like-" Grayson warned him.  
"Yeah, he hasn't gotten his ass kicked by me a thousand and one times," I spat back at him with a smile. Dick glared daggers at me until something behind me drew his attention. I turned around and a little black drone flew around me to hover between us.   
"Stop bickering, both of you. Miss Crane, would you kindly put down Damian?" Alfred's voice was projected from a speaker on the drone. I looked at Damien. He had both his hands holding onto my hand behind his head and he was hanging a couple inches above the ground. I let him down and mumbled sorry. He shrugged while he brushed himself off from our scuffle earlier.  
"Thank you, dear. Dick, please join Master Wayne inside the building now that we know Damian is safe," robo-Alfred commanded. Nightwing stuck a gadget to the lock on the metal door which clicked open and he walked into the smoky building, shutting the door behind him. Damien was eager to see inside the building. Robo-Alfred flew in front of him.  
"You did a good job today, Damien. Master Wayne was able to enter from the other side after you distracted the Riddler's men. Now, please wait in the car to return to the Manor."   
"I can help in there!" the boy whined, pointing to the door.   
"No, you've done your job for this mission," Robo-Alfred said.  
"Hold up a minute for me, can I ask who Damien is and why he knows my husband's name?" I pushed Damien from in front of Robo-Alfred and stared down the drone as best anyone can stare a drone down.  
"Damien is Master Wayne's new ward and training to fight crime per his insistent wishes. As a member of this manor, I give you my word Miss Crane that he will not cause you or your husband trouble."  
"Okay, but he already told me Jonathan was Scarecrow when I told him my name. So how exactly is this kid not going to be a problem for us? Anyone can tell him their last name is Crane and he'll spill the beans," I snapped back.  
"I'm almost 16, don't call me 'kid'" Damien interrupted us.  
Robo-Alfred crackled on the speaker and we heard him sigh. I could imagine the old man rubbing his temples at the giant computer station in the Batcave.   
"Damien. Get. In. The. Car."  
The British voice was very carefully measured and Damien quickly scaled the alley wall and disappeared from view. I almost laughed, but cleared my throat to cover it. When Dick the Prick or Bruce Wayne got mad, it was a common occurence, but pissing *Alfred* off was how you knew you were in a shit-ton of trouble.   
"I promise you, Miss Crane, that will not happen again. You and your husband can still trust the protection of Wayne Manor," Alfred earnestly confirmed our deal.   
"As long as you're in charge of The Three Musketeers, I think we're good here, Alfred," I said as I turned around and walked to the street, grabbing my jacket as I walked.   
"Thank you for stepping in to save young Master Damien," robo-Alfred followed me.  
"I didn't know he was with you," I casually shrugged my shoulders. The drone speaker crackled, Alfred was quiet again. I returned to Angela's and got my purse and bag of my purchases from her.   
"You're covered in sweat and mud, what happened!" she shouted.   
"It was a kid-" I started, but I corrected myself, "-a teenager getting mugged. It's all fine now."  
Angela gasped loudly. How immensely strange must it be for a rich woman to casually say they took care of muggers? I couldn't say what really happened. I wasn't going to give Dick the Prick more cred.   
"The boy and I distracted the thugs for a few minutes until Batman showed up. He took care of them," I added in a rush and returned to my car. Geezus, that was lame. I drove back to my house in the high-end, upper-hills part of Gotham. Jonathan' s car was in our driveway. Shit, I thought, I can' t clean up before he sees me.  
He was waiting for me when I came in, from upstairs he called down, "You went into your old neighborhood today anyways, didn't you Becca?"   
"Yep, and I brought back some cool looking shit from Angela's," I called back while I quietly fast-walked to the downstairs bathroom to clean up as best as possible.   
"What the fuck happened?!" he voice wasn't muffled anymore. I froze in my tracks in the living room and slowly turned around and looked up at the landing. Jonathan was already at the bottom of the stairs and walking to my side with his tie half off. I had hoped he was in one of the bedrooms or study upstairs, but I had no such luck. He came out to scold me and saw me on my way to the bathroom.  
"I saw a dirty old cat walk past near Angela's and I thought 'that is a lovely cat to get for Jonathan and we can call him Crow to match Raven and wash him up and Jonathan will be so happy'," I lied. Jonathan held my face up to meet his nerve-wracking gaze. His dark hair curtained his face as he looked down at me.  
"If you saw a cat, you would've caught it or if it escaped you, you would've called me and had me bring you a trap. I know you, my love, why are you lying? How much trouble did you get into?"   
I laughed him off and swatted away his hands. I casually strode past him upstairs to where I could properly clean myself.  
"Angela has a trap herself, and she said she would set hers up when I returned cat-less to her counter to call you. I left my bag there in a hurry," I explained, "Angela has two of her own cats, do you remember?"  
"I remember that Angela has birds," Jonathan corrected me, "Why are you lying, my love? How deep was the shit you stepped in?"   
His hands tried to grab my hips. I sped up a couple stairs out of his reach before he became very serious. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me around to face him on the landing and held me in place by my waist.  
"How deep was the shit, Becca?" he repeated the question. I laughed again and rolled my eyes.  
"It was so little, its not a big deal, but I know you'll flip out anyways, Jonathan. A teenager was getting mugged nearby and I heard him call for help so I went and I just beat up some meatheads, its *nothing*," I laughed again. My doctor's face went dark and he looked at the wall behind me deep in thought. I put my hand on his face and turned him to look at me again, "It was *nothing*, darling. No one even saw me do it, it was just 3 meatheads and they were down an alley. And the boy's safe now too. I just got mud on me."  
"I don't trust your assessment, I'll check the damage," Jonathan's voice dropped an octave.  
"What? Jona-" I began to argue.  
"I'm the doctor, I will assess the damage," he growled again. He was gripping my waist and pushing his body against mine. I giggled and looked back up to him smiling. His dark eyes were hungry and narrowed so his eyelashes shadowed them.  
"You are the doctor," I whispered with a grin. I stopped pulling my body against his hands, letting him be in control. His lips latched onto my neck. He devoured every inch of skin on my neck and collarbones. My fingers tangled in his hair, I moaned his name over and over again the way I knew he liked. We backed up against the wall and he pressed into me. I took a moment to breathe, smiling against his lips.   
"I love you, Jonathan Crane," I whispered. He mustered up a growl back. He lifted me by my ass and walked up to the bathroom with my legs wrapped around his waist. I'd feel embarassed about my wetness soaking entirely through my pants if I was with someone other than Crane. He time and again took great pride in how fucking soaked he made me. If he noticed this afternoon, it made him harder. When we got to the bathroom, our hands fumbled my clothes off of me. I reached behind us and turned the shower on. The back of my top audibly crinkled when we pulled it over my head.  
"I knew it, the back of your shirt has blood on it!" Jonathan didn't have time to examine it because I pulled him into the shower with me.   
"Its not my blood, I'm too fucking badass to get my own blood spilled in a fuckin' alley," I said smugly while we undressed his tall form, "I don't think you quite remember how much damage I did before we belonged to each other. I kept Bats on his toes since I was 11."  
Jonathan lined up the head of his dick to my entrance and thrusted from behind me. His pants were around his ankles, his socks still on his feet in the water. We bent over, his stomach and chest pressed against my back. One of his arms was around my stomach to keep my body against his and give his cock as much depth as possible. His other arm was with mine, supporting us against the wall in front of us. He found his rhythym, I tried to keep myself clenched around his dick to make it better for him. His lips dragged on the back of my shoulders as he attempted to kiss me while fucking me from behind. The rhythym started faltering and his grunts grew louder.  
"Yes, please, Jonathan," I moaned for him, "Jonathan!"  
Today was one of the times I could feel his load inside me, it came out warm and gooey, his dick pulsed. We both sank to the tiled floor.   
"Becca, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he sighed out, "Please don't put yourself in danger. I want to come home every day for the rest of my life and cum inside you. I don't want this to stop early."  
"Hehe, you know exactly what ladies want to hear, huh?" I laughed sarcastically, teasing.  
"I know you love it too, why risk this?" he looked up tired. I stroked his face and brushed some wet hair from his face.  
"I'm not risking anything.... You get to work with chemistry and biology everyday," I slowly found what I wanted to say as I climbed on his lap. I straddled Dr. Crane's lap and lined his soft dick up with my entrance again. His hands held my hips as he watched me, enjoying watching me eagerly putting his dick inside me again while his cum dripped out. I rode him slowly forward and backward. The noticeable member inside my vagina and the fantastic friction of his hair on my clit built up steam as I formulated more sentences, "You do what you love everyday. We do each other everyday and we love that. But I don't do what I love everyday."  
"What do you love to do, besides me?" he asked, his head facing the ceiling as he rested it against the tile wall.  
"I love the adrenaline from beating the living shit out of assholes," I said it in a serious tone. He looked back at my face, my eyes, "I love the crunch of their bones when I hit the fuckasses and when they hit the ground. I like beating the shit out of people who deserve it."  
His eyes were wide open now. Then, he laughed with a huge smile on his face.   
"I was always so scared that if I let you see me as Scarecrow, I'd scare you away, but I'm not the big bad wolf here, am I?"  
I planted a soft kiss on his lips and whispered against his mouth, "No, you're not..." and growled like a dork.   
.  
.  
.  
I woke up on our bed under the covers, sun shone down from the windows and I sleepily watched dust catch the light while I slowly woke up. I swung my legs over the edge and walked in front of the mirror to look at my body. Bruising finger prints from where Jonathan held my hips and waist and stomach. Hickeys on my neck and two bite marks nearer my shoulder. I was smiling at my reflection when quietness hit me. A car engine that had been running was shut off. I peered out the window and saw one of the Wayne Manor cars outside. Jonathan already opened our front door, but their voices werent distinguishable. I put on sweatpants and ran down our stairs to join my husband.  
"Rebecca, you're awake! We can speak to you directly then. Dr. Crane can we still come inside?" Bruce said. Jonathan stepped aside towards me and wrapped an arm around my waist.   
"I was setting breakfast for us on the table," he told them in an almost mumbling tone. He kept looking at me, but I ignored his eyes and obviously avoided returning his gaze. Jonathan wasn't going to be happy to hear the full story from Batman. He kissed my bedhead hair and walked away into the kitchen, calling out,  
"Is this about Becca's time in the old neighborhood yesterday?"   
"Yes, it is. I'm glad we're all on the same page," Bruce called back. Jonathan returned to the kitchen doorway on his way to the dining table with a carton of orange juice, a glass, and his mug of coffee in his hands. He looked at me and I knew he wanted to say *yep, aaall on the same page*. I took my orange juice and glass from Jonathan and followed him into the dining room. The table was set with a full continental breakfast for two. Bruce sat at the empty end, he knew he wasn't expected nor accounted for.  
"Alfred and I are making sure Damien takes your former identities to his grave as the rest of us will," Bruce opened with the biggest bombshell. Jonathan's knuckles were white, his hands were clasped together in front of him on the table.  
"Who is this?" he too evenly, too carefully asked. I was sitting at the other end of the table and hungry. I was starving and in a tangle.  
"I didn't tell Dr. Crane about Damien because I wasn't sure if his presence was a secret," I bullshitted, "and I didn't want to break it if he was cause I know how important trust is," I added with a pat on my back. Bruce gritted his teeth.  
"Damien's my new son and apprentice, Dr. Crane. As such, he has access to all the information I do. Well, almost all."  
"Why aren't our pasts included in the "almost"? We haven't broken our word, in fact, I'd rather say Becca helped you yesterday," Jonathan spat back.  
"Yes, and that was kind of why Damien knows about you. Alfred has always attested to your possibilities as allies when Gotham needs you in an emergency and yesterday Rebecca proved it in a small-scale demonstration," Bruce laid out for us, "I...hesitate...to suggest this. But when we could use your skills, perhaps Rebecca would accompany us in the field. And you, Doctor, your blends of toxins could be used against villians again."  
I smiled and leaned forward on the table, looking to Jonathan.  
"Yes, I'm in! What do you think, mí amor?"  
Jonathan was lost in his head. I placed my hand over his, still clasped together. He came back to earth with us and asked,  
"Will I get to use them?"  
"No," Bruce glared at him. Jonathan glared back at him.  
"My muscles are still kind of sore from yesterday, I'd probably slow you down when you're 'vigilant-ing'," I couldn't be out doing what I used to if Jonathan was stuck inside. Jonathan grabbed my hand in his.  
"No, no, kitten, you go have fun-"  
"Not when you-" I interrupted him for a second before his fingers covered my mouth for him to talk first.  
"I work in chemistry for my job, like you said. You deserve to do what you love too," he finished nodding to me to say yes and turned back to Bruce, "Counter-offer, I get to make some....fun toxins in your private lab for personal use. Used on Becca and myself only."   
I gasped and pulled his hand away to say with a smile,  
"I change my answer again, but I also won't do it unless Jonathan gets to make his fun stuff!"  
"I have no idea how to answer this, I wasn't prepared for you to want to make drugs in my lab," Bruce was flabbergasted.   
"Not chemical compounds like that," Jonathan assured him. Bruce waved his hand for him to elaborate, "Fun stuff like chemical compounds to use at the same time."  
Bruce kept looking at Jonathan for more information.  
"Pheromones... Aphrodisiacs. Wait, were hallucinagenics off the table? Mild hallucinagenics would be fun...," Jonathan continued thinking out loud in chemistry terms.   
"I-what-why? I don't-... I guess so, but you have to explain what you're manufacturing in *my* lab to me before you make it."  
As Bruce pulled away in his car Jonathan stood next to me in our doorway watching him leave, hands in his pockets, my arms crossed in front of me leaning against his side. His black turtleneck was soft and I was still shirtless. One of his hands clutched my waist and kept me pulled against him. He adjusted his glasses while watching Bruce drive away and murmured,  
"Do you want to go again? I'm rock hard thinking about the different enhancements we can play with now."


End file.
